


Shore Leave

by thedeadparrot



Category: Kings, Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-25
Updated: 2009-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-02 10:16:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeadparrot/pseuds/thedeadparrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack meets a guy in a bar. Stuff happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shore Leave

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Porn Battle VIII](http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/10575.html) and the prompt 'Jack/Kirk, charm'

Jack's not really sure what he's looking for in some dirty, backwards bar in Iowa of all places, but he's on break from Starfleet Academy, and the last thing he wants to do is visit Gilboa so his father can frown at his grades and tell him they're unacceptable for the future King.

He can do better than that. Not in the least of which is get fucked by some pretty townie with a nice mouth and a willingness to suck cock. Jack's done it before. This bar in particular seemed designed for this purpose. Its tacky, Starfleet-themed decor and throngs of Starfleet cadets were sending such clear signals that they might as well put up a sign outside.

Jack glances around them, ignoring some of the curious stares. Technically, in Starfleet, all cadets are considered equal, regardless of background, but that doesn't stop the rubberneckers from trying to sneak a peek at the Prince of Gilboa. Sometimes, Jack really wishes he wasn't inheriting an entire goddamn planet, and sometimes, it's the only thing that gets him through the day.

At the corner of the bar is a pretty blond wearing a leather jacket, an arrogant smirk, and a "fuck you" attitude that Jack can respect. He's looking straight at Jack.

Jack thinks he can live with that. He leans back, ever so slightly, an invitation, and the blond saunters over. Cocky, this one. Jack wonders what it would take to fuck it out of him. "Jim Kirk," the blond says, holding a hand out. "Can I buy you a drink?" Jim's smiling too wide, charm laid on too think, but Jack likes it.

Jack shakes his hand. "Jack Benjamin. And I think we both know that you're not just here for a drink."

Jim tenses for a moment before relaxing. "Yeah, and what are you going to do about it?" He tilts his head in a way that makes Jack want to lick the column of his neck.

"Your place?" Jack asks, because if this kid is a Starfleet cadet, Jack's straight.

"Sure," Jim says. He leads them out into the chilly Iowa night. There isn't another building for miles, the darkness stretching far beyond the glow of light coming from the bar.

Jim doesn't have a transport, he has a _bike_, and that's so predictable, Jack laughs.

"Come on," Jim says, offering Jack the seat behind him. Jack wants to say something about how undignified that is, but that's just his mother talking, so he slides in and wraps his arms around Jim's waist.

The ride isn't comfortable in the least, but Jack feels something in the rush of wind on his face, the solidity of Jim's back pressed against his chest, that he's never quite felt before. Not in the cold, quiet hallways of the palace, not in the dry, dull simulations of the Academy, not in the quick, dirty fucks of back-alley clubs. When they get to Jim's apartment, Jack's ready, more than ready, and as they step inside the door, he shoves Jim up against the wall. Jim's already hard; Jack can feel it when he grabs Jim's crotch. Jim's pupils are blown wide, his breath shallow and sharp, and to be fair, Jack's breathing hard too.

And then Jim attacks Jack's mouth, arms wrapped tight around Jack's neck. He kisses too fast and too hard, like he's incapable of slowing down. Jack matches his pace, even though he likes to take it slow when he can, dragging every moment out so that he can remember it later.

He lets Jim half-pull, half-lead him to the bed. Jim's out of his jacket, jeans, t-shirt and underwear in about five seconds flat, leaving him naked and sprawled on the bed. He watches at Jack takes off his own cadet uniform, his eyes frank and appraising.

Jack smirks. When he's out of his clothes, he grabs Jim's hair and yanks it back. Jim doesn't fight it. He's got an answering smirk on his face, a challenge if Jack's ever seen one. Jack wants to know what it would take to wipe that expression from Jim's face, what would make him desperate and begging for more, too turned on to give Jack any attitude. "You have any lube?" Jack asks.

"Yeah," Jim says gesturing towards a drawer of his nightstand. "You going to do something with it?" He spreads his legs a little wider, a taunt, a tease.

Jack lets go of Jim's hair, shoves his head forward. "I was planning on using it to fuck you," Jack says in the the most mild voice he has, the one he uses to charm the maids into leaving particular doors of the palace unlocked on certain nights. He reaches forward and pinches one of Jim's nipples, hard, which makes Jim's entire body tense up.

"Oh, I don't know if I'm that easy," Jim says. He attempts to school his face into a look of mock-innocence, but he's not quite pulling it off.

Jack knows Jim's type. He'll be that easy if Jack _makes_ him. Jack's looking forward to it already. He darts forward and uses some of the hand-to-hand techniques he's been learning to flip Jim over so that he's on his chest, his right arm locked behind his back in a hold.

"Nice trick," Jim says, though he's beginning to sound a little breathless.

"Yeah," Jack says, as he uses his free hand to retrieve the lube from its drawer. "I like it a lot." Jim struggles a little as Jack forces his legs apart with his knee, but he gives in pretty quickly. His body twitches at the sound of the cap to the lube being popped open, as Jack squeezes some onto one finger, then two.

One finger sliding in earns Jack a gasp from Jim's pretty, pretty lips. Two fingers gets him a moan. Jack tilts his fingers forward, so that the pads brush Jim's prostate, and that gets him an interesting cross between the two. Jim's getting where Jack wants him, his body shoving back onto Jack's fingers as much as he can with one arm behind his back and no leverage.

And fuck, Jack's so hard, he can barely see straight, but his entire fucking life has been about waiting patiently for what he wants, so it's almost easy to fuck Jim a few times with his fingers. He just watches as Jim tries to rub his dick against the bedsheets, his body straining against Jack's hold. It's a pretty fucking beautiful sight.

After that, though, Jack's had enough waiting, and so he pulls his fingers out and pushes his cock in, enjoying the way Jim hisses out a soft "yeah" as he does it. Jack goes slow at first, drawing it out, until he can practically feel Jim getting impatient under his hands.

"Come on," Jim says, "c'mon, you fucking asshole." He must be losing feeling in his arm from his hold, but he's not showing it, twisting and turning and trying to use his free arm to break free. He almost does a few times -- their bodies are both slick with sweat -- but since Jim's not really trying to escape, it's pretty easy to get him back under control.

Jack just leans over so that they're pressing against each other, head to toe, and says, "Beg."

Jim shows teeth. "No," he says.

Jack gives him one vicious thrust and then stops, balls deep inside. "Beg," he says again. Jim's panting now, so far gone he just might give in this time.

"Please," Jim says, softly, "come on, pleasepleaseplease." He's been stripped open, everything written on his face, right where Jack wants him.

Jack takes pity on Jim and fucks him at Jim's pace, too fast and too hard. It only takes a little bit more for Jim to come, wet and messy all over the sheets, and for Jack to follow right behind.

They collapse onto the bed together, one sweaty, sticky mess. Jim shakes out his arm. Jack's pretty sure he's too tired to move from his spot. He likes it where he is. Jim makes no move to kick Jack out, and so Jack falls asleep, just like that.

\---

The next morning, Jim feeds Jack bagels and orange juice and even offers Jack a lift to the shuttle. It's not as weird as it usually is the morning after, all awkward "no, I can't phone or write or even pretend to have never met you, because my father would kill me otherwise," conversations. Jack simply eats his bagels, drinks his orange juice and accepts the offer for a ride.

"Thanks," Jack says when they get to the docks, and he doesn't know if he means the sex or the ride. Maybe both.

Jim just shrugs and looks up at the sky, a clear, perfect blue. "No problem," he says.

And then he's kicks off, guns the engine and takes off, the rumble of his bike fading into the distance. Jack takes one last look before heading back towards the shuttle.

FIN.


End file.
